


The “The Devil Files” Files and Other Stories

by Melethril



Series: Reverence For Life [9]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Because Lucifer loves people, Erin Strauss is done with this shit, Gen, Humor, More tags to be added, Not In Chronological Order, OCs - Freeform, Some angst, The BAU is awesome, after action reports, because I know me, too many 5+1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24453061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melethril/pseuds/Melethril
Summary: Try having the devil in your team and still write coherent reports that do not make it sound like you lost your mind.Or: The Shenanigans of Lucifer Morningstar in A Human Environment
Series: Reverence For Life [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482401
Comments: 113
Kudos: 239





	1. The ‘The Devil Files’ Files – Box 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Caris for giving me the idea, Christyflare for enthusiastically endorsing it and SilverWolf7 for shamelessly enabling me when it comes to this series.
> 
> This is simply a compilation of different stories surrounding Lucifer and the BAU that does not fit anywhere specifically into my neatly planned out and chronologically ordered series. So, while the stories will be coherent within themselves regarding their timeline and will occasionally consist of a sequel a few chapters down the line, I will write stories as they come to mind and the chapters are not necessarily in chronological order (as in: my muse has gone batshit insane and is giving me too many plot bunnies to handle). You know me and worldbuilding by now, so some stories might contain some additional tidbits, but it’s the main stories (1-7) that carry the plot and this compilation does not need to be read.  
> There is also no chapter limit, because as of now, I don’t know how many of these stories there will be. I have a solid idea for 4 chapters, but this could increase over time.
> 
> Also, this story is open for commissions. Let me know if you have a CM&Lucifer prompt, let me know. It can also be completely AU (like a crossover) as long as it fits into the one-shot format.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Section Chief Erin Strauss has noticed that a certain vagueness has slipped into the BAU's reports.

While Section Chief Erin Strauss used to have her issues with Agent Hotchner’s role as Unit Chief, she had to acknowledge just how much of an asset he was to the Bureau. He was a man of integrity, knew his team and worked with the team in a way neither Jason nor David had ever been able to. The hiring of a man like Lucifer Morningstar as a civilian consultant had been a shrewd, calculated move on Aaron’s part and Erin had to respect him for that. With the club owner’s financial backing and his rapidly growing influence in DC, Aaron had acquired a BAU mascot that would ensure a secured budget and the opportunity to pick and choose cases as well as team member as freely as no other department could hope for.

Erin kept a close eye on the BAU’s latest addition, but she had to admit that the charming man was devilishly good at smiling through her defenses, no matter how strange he was.

SSA Aaron Hotchner was a man of absolute integrity, which was especially reflected in the way he wrote his reports. They were practical, to the point yet detailed and honest. However, ever since Mr. Morningstar had joined the team, she had taken notice that occasionally, reports either appeared almost overtly generalized or contained information that made Erin wonder whether she was misreading something.

Two examples came to mind whenever she thought about it in detail.

* * *

_Excerpt of: report submitted by SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief, BAU_

_File number (full report): 801-HQ-342965_

_Related files: 306-NY-293814, submitted by SSA Catherine Joyner, Head of NY office_

_Technical Analysist Penelope Garcia identified that a bomb or similar device (henceforth abbreviated to bomb) was planted beneath a black SUV with the license plate G32-884V1 (issued to SSA Aaron Hotchner). The UnSub planting the bomb was also captured by the cameras. After planting the bomb, the UnSub hid within immediate vicinity of the car leading to the conclusion that the bomb would be set off by a manual trigger. It was decided to arrest the UnSub on site. SSA Emily Prentiss remembered that Lucifer Morningstar gained extensive experience in his youth with what she referred to as a circus-like ‘smoke and mirrors’ trick, which would allow him to escape the blast with minimal to no injury. Lucifer Morningstar agreed to proceed with this plan._

At this point of the report, she had called Aaron and asked him what in Hell’s name he had been thinking. They could not have known how big the blast would be and therefore deliberately put a team member in jeopardy. It would have given her grounds to suspend him if SSA Derek Morgan had not corroborated with and approved of the plan. Since the only member of the team with bomb squad experience had signed off the plan, and Mr. Morningstar had come out of the entire ordeal unscathed, she had let it go.

* * *

_Excerpt of: report submitted by SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief, BAU_

_File number (full report): 244-HQ-392851_

_Location: La Plata County, Colorado_

_Subject of investigation: Separatarian Sect at Liberty Ranch: use of firearms in the chapel_

_Case: Hostage situation involving two members of the team: Dr. Spencer Reid and SSA Emily Prentiss_

_Note: Based on AAR submitted to SSA Aaron Hotchner by SSA Derek Morgan, profiler, BAU, File number 244-HQ-392853_

_The chapel (also referred to as ‘temple’) was accessed by SSA Derek Morgan and Agent Mark Johnson, HRT assault team. Primary objective was the extraction of Dr. Spencer Reid and the arrest of Benjamin Cyrus (a.k.a. Charles Mulgrew, now referred to as ‘BC’) and his most loyal followers who had already fired shots with AK-47 assault rifles or similar weaponry. SSA Morgan and Agent Johnson were prepared to be met with heavy resistance. Second objective was the safe apprehension of Jessica Evanson, 15 years old, wife of BC, who had eluded SSA Emily Prentiss in order to find her husband. All other women and children were present and evacuated from the buildings._

_When we arrived at the chapel, Agent Johnson and SSA Morgan overheard BC quoting Matthew 10:34 to Dr. Reid before assaulting him. They entered the room, identified two members of the Separatarian Sect, both armed and read to shoot. SSA Morgan shot Christopher Cole, BC’s second-in-command. Before BC could be incapacitated, Lucifer Morningstar – civilian consultant – stepped between Mark Johnson and SSA Morgan. It is unclear which direction Mr. Morningstar was coming from._

Erin almost had a heart attack reading that. How could SSA Morgan let that happen? She had later called both SSA Morgan and SSA Hotchner to her office and chewed them out for letting a civilian be caught in the crossfire. Still, while they told her that they would make sure he would refrain from stepping into the line of fire in the future, it was clear that, at Liberty Ranch, his appearance had come as a surprise. Soon after, she made Morningstar join them in order to reprimand him for endangering a case, but for some reason, she let the persuasive, suave man convince her that – since nothing bad had happened – there was no need for a formal report or reprimand.

That part of the report was all fine – as fine as a civilian consultant being part of a shootout between a cult and the FBI could be – and was corroborated by Agent Johnson including the frankly unbelievable moment of Lucifer Morningstar disarming Cyrus – the word ‘casually’ was used in both reports – and propelling or throwing him several feet away in the direction of the altar. However, after identification of a bomb nearby and Johnson being dismissed to alarm Bomb Squad, SSA Morgan’s report became uncharacteristically vague.

While Jessica Evanson, in her testimony, had sworn that a blindingly white light had radiated from the altar, which she had interpreted as a warning against the devil Morningstar – really, the man should think about using an alias during his cases – SSA Morgan wrote something along the lines of _‘the sun shone through the windows and my line of fire was obstructed.’_

It got even more peculiar with Jessica Evanson’s _‘the devil tried to kill my husband_ ’ and _‘the devil threw him across the room’_ contrasting SSA Morgan’s _‘Mr. Morningstar saw that BC was a threat and knocked BC unconscious effectively.’_ Erin tended to believe SSA Morgan in this case since Jessica Evanson had later set off a bomb that nearly killed Dr. Reid and SSA Morgan and was probably working on a defense.

Unfortunately, the profiler had lost sight of the civilian consultant at the time and had not known exactly how he came out of the blast without any sort of injury. Ultimately, he speculated that he had been able to hide behind a pillar, which upon a personal meeting with Mr. Morningstar had been commented with – ‘ _right, yes, there was a pillar_.‘

Their explanation regarding Mr. Morningstar not only avoiding injury but also coming out of the explosion without any damage to his hearing had been along the lines of ‘ _as owner of a nightclub, I am quite regularly faced with loud noises.’_

Ultimately, the BAU had managed to ressolve a hostage situation with minimal losses and that was a great victory. Erin was also kind of grateful that the team had been largely absent when lightening struck ultimately causing a fire that would burn down the entire ranch. At the very least, nobody thought that her team was involved in that – well, apart from Ms. Evanson who was trying to save her own neck here and had speculated that this was all the devil’s work.

* * *

Shaking her head, Erin put the old reports aside and picked up the latest one.

_File number: 306-HQ-394231_

_Location: Woodland, WA_

_Case: Family annihilator, arson_

_Report by: SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief, BAU_

She briefly skimmed through the reports before focusing on the details. This was a painful one. The report did not lack any detail, and during the final assault, Morningstar seemed to be following the rules for the most part.

_‘SSA Morgan attempted to get a hold of Mr. Morningstar, but he evaded the grip and stepped into the gym.’_

Erin just sighed.

_‘The fire was not hot enough to severely hurt either Thomas Walter or Dr. Reid and without a fire accelerant, the clothes were largely spared. Lucifer Morningstar grabbed Ralph Finnegan (RF) and incapacitated him by throwing him across the room. RF must have accidentally splashed himself with a fire accelerant because the flames rapidly closed in on him. Thankfully, he did not actually catch fire.’_

Really, what was it with Mr. Morningstar and throwing people around the room like they were rag dolls? This had become almost as common as reading that SSA Morgan was ‘ _kicking down doors_ ’ and _‘Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia cross-referenced’_ or ‘ _our profile identified the UnSub as a white male in his early twenties to mid-thirties’_ or _‘it was clear at this point that the UnSub was devolving.’_

The report also deviated from young Thomas Walter’s account (‘ _It hurt so bad, but then the fire was just gone as if the guy in the suit called it to him. For a moment, he looked red like fire. It didn’t really hurt him. Then he threw Mr. Finnegan on top of a basketball hoop and the fire just followed-and I don’t know what happened next.’_ ).

Clearly, the boy had been traumatized by the whole ordeal and she could not blame him, but he did make Morningstar sound like some sort of superhero.

Erin sighed and put the report away. She would deal with this one tomorrow and explain to SSA Morgan and SSA Hotchner _yet again_ that Mr. Morningstar really should not be joining assault teams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Example 1: From Box 1, Chapter 2, Lo-Fi/Mayhem (Code 801, “International and Domestic Terrorism)  
> Example 2: From Box 1, Chapter 4, Minimal Loss (Code 244, “Hostage Rescue Team”)  
> Example 3: Like Ashes in the Wind (Code 306, “Serial killings”, HQ)


	2. 5+1: Decor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: Five times Lucifer was cockblocked by his own decor and the one time it served its purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story 4 includes mentions of Norse mythology and some of its most horrifying parts (story of Sleipnir’s origins). Not details, but pleased be warned.
> 
> Another NOTE:  
> This is about as steamy as it gets with me. Nothing explicit and allusion to but no description of what could be interpreted as sexual activities. Still, I upped the rating of this story to ‘Mature’ because of the title and some of my wording.

**1\. The Library**

Olivia Thomson was a fascinating person, Lucifer found. The PhD student from Georgetown University was thirty-two years old, very well aware of who she was and what she wanted to do and her undergraduate degree had first been in art history before she shifted to the Department of Linguistics getting her Master of Science in theoretical linguistics. However, her interest in art and art history never wavered causing her to convince one of her professors to write a master thesis project on ‘language through imagery – illustrations as a linguistic tool in literature.’ She ultimately decided to dive even deeper into said topic when she decided to do a PhD on a related topic.

Not that she told him all of that while they were talking in the club. They talked about art history for the most part and had a brief conversation about linguistics, especially after he briefly conversed with Katja, a regular patron and personal assistant to the Finnish ambassador, and Olivia overheard his ‘flawless inflection’. Humans were strange that way, really, especially here in the US. When you spoke another language fluently, you automatically became an object of interest.

Since he was used to being just that, he did not mind having her attention, not at all. He was quite delighted to have her interest, and quite thrilled to start their nightly activities in the elevator to his apartment. That was until the elevator dinged and they stumbled out in order to resume either on the nearby couch, the bed, or both. He really was not that picky about the exact location. They were just settling down on the couch when he heard her gasp in a manner Lucifer knew to be one of surprise and he had heard enough human exclamations of ecstasy to know that this one did not express carnal pleasure.

“What is it, darling?” asked Lucifer settling back a bit.

“Your library looks amazing,” breathed Olivia, her eyes on the shelves. She was breathing heavily from their earlier activities, but her mind and attention was shifting. “How many antiques do you have?”

“Many,” he then remembered her ten-minute talk about illustrations in bibles and added, “some with quite unique illustrations.”

All of her previous passions, both physical and intellectual, did not hold a candle to the bonfire that was shining in her eyes in this moment. Lucifer’s own, very obvious, enthusiasm shifted toward this new light as it had many times before and doubtlessly would again. He smiled backing up a bit further, readjusted some of his disheveled attire before he went to his shelves, climbed up the small ladder nearby and went to his bible collection – and he was fully aware how cliché that was, and he did not care because, like so many other books in this room, they had once been gifts – put on the nearby cotton gloves (Dr. Reid had given him a dozen or so, because he could not bear the thought of anyone touching them without the utmost care), and stepped down with the book.

She was quite delighted and asked whether she could take a look around. Who was he to stand in the way of passion?

He himself – having read all the books in this collection – decided that if literature were to become tonight’s theme, he would do some reading in parallel. For his imaginary birthday – January 25 – the team had gifted him with an e-book reader containing a truly impressive number of books. It had been a cumulative gift from all ‘his’ humans, including staff both from LA and DC – a number he had been rather unaware of being quite this high – all of whom had contributed with books for him to read. He had read through all the books in a matter of weeks, but he used the opportunity to have his online library continuously updated. He liked his physical library, and occasionally, he would be gifted with a manuscript for sentimental value, but he was actually quite glad that humanity had found a way to reduce the number of books he had to acquire in the form of a physical library. He did not like giving them away, but there were only so many books you could store in your home. Not wanting to spend too much time curating his electronic library, he had commissioned a local bookshop to regularly provide him with e-books of all types and languages, though they quickly learned to cater to his preferences.

He was just at the best parts of _Stormy Night, Hot Dawn_ when he heard Olivia gasp.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“What is this?” she asked pointing at Giulio’s transcripts he had written as a young man of eighteen after meeting that shaman in Sumatra who had nursed him back to health after contracting a rather dangerous infectious disease. They had not spoken the same language, and yet, he had done his best to capture her ‘outstanding wisdom going beyond what I had seen before.’

After returning to Italy, Giulio had tried to make sense of the words, had gone to several language scholars trying to translate his own transcript. Meeting Lucifer had been a complete coincidence and had nothing to do with the merchant’s professional interests or even his translation attempts. Instead, he had met him during a court case in 1476 that involved Leonardo, Baccino, Leonardo Tornabuoni and Bartolomeo di Pasquino. In a rather bad turn of events, the four had been witnessed having fun together and with Jacopo Saltarelli, only seventeen at the time but enthusiastically consenting to the activities. Of the five men accused, Lucifer had only personally known Leonardo.

They had never been lovers – natural consequence of meeting the devil when you were technically still a larval human at eighteen years of age – but Leonardo’s admiration for him had always been obvious and they had met more or less frequently between that first meeting and the court case six years later. In turn, Lucifer had been fascinated with the young man’s outstanding brilliance, never-ceasing curiosity and active mind.

Lucifer had always partially mourned to have first dealt with Leonardo when he had been too naïve and too inexperienced to become a lover, a rather uncommon realization for Lucifer who usually did not tend to think about specific people too much. He had admired Leonardo a great deal and he had been one of the main reasons why Lucifer had spent the better part of the late 15th to early 16th century in Italy (whenever he was on Earth, at least). Lucifer had kept every letter of correspondence and had held onto them almost jealously. Five centuries after the fact, Lucifer could admit to having harbored a crush and obvious weak spot for the man. Said weak spot had him call in a great number of favors he had accumulated over the years in Florence in order to make sure the sodomy charges were acquitted.

Giulio had been a close friend of Leonardo albeit six years his senior and Leonardo had even tried to help with the translation to no avail. After the trial, Leonardo had introduced Lucifer to Giulio, warmly so. The two of them translated the text in the course of two weeks never leaving the house (and barely the bedroom) and having a lot of carnal fun during breaks, they ended up with two original manuscript – of which one was mostly on medicinal herbs and treatments and the other a collection of stories the shaman had told Giulio to keep him entertained but also to convey the ancient knowledge she had used to heal him – and a manuscript with the translation, or rather the decoder ring.

“Lucifer?”

“Hm?” asked the devil, lost in thoughts of events that happened half a millenium ago. Times changed, there was no use mourning the past.

“This looks like the Voynich manuscript,” she whispered, “and it looks very authentic.”

“Right,” said Lucifer. “This is an original, but not what was later denoted the ‘Voynich manuscript.’ What you are holding are the instructions to properly read both manuscripts… Are you unwell?” Olivia looked like she would pass out any moment fevereshly asking whether she could take a look at the second manuscript… That was his interpretation of her _‘two-there-two-two-of-how-can-I?’_ inquiry, at least.

“The illustrations in this manuscript are a bit different than the ones from the f-first Voynich manuscript,” said Olivia hoarsely a few minutes later. “More… accurate.”

“Yes, they were added later. Giulio just added placeholders, because he’s no artist and asked a friend to refine them. Giulio had no patience for it and his friend was an outstanding artist.”

An outstanding human and friend, too.

“You know the story behind this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

So, Lucifer told her about Giulio’s trip to Sumatra. He had his personal diary; the man had given it to him correctly assuming that Lucifer would preserve this better than most. Olivia’s questions – despite her excitement and obvious shock – were poignant and highly technical. He answered to the best of his abilities. At some point, she realized that she should probably go home (when the sun came up and she could barely keep her eyes open).

She was ready to go when she looked at Lucifer with an expression of horror, “I totally cockteased you, didn’t I? Oh man, that was really shitty. I’m sorry.”

Lucifer just laughed, “No need. Seeing you in your element was quite beautiful. Thank you.”

He meant it, truly he did. Her Light was absolutely stunning.

“I’ll make it up to you. We can- if you,” said she, but it was quite obvious that this was her conscience talking not her own lust or need for sexual gratification. He approached her, kissed her hand and said, “Sleep well, Olivia. My door’s always open.”

**2\. The Music Collection**

James was very talented, Lucifer found, in more ways than one. It had been a quiet night at Astra and most guests had left when James asked to sit beside him at the piano. The man was by no means a professional, but proficient enough to play a passable duet. What sold Lucifer, though, was the man’s deep, sultry voice, and the man’s very obvious intent on enjoying a nice tumble in the sheets with the devil.

Not too long after, they were in his penthouse starting to undress each other when James moaned part of a question, “-is your music collection?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer while skillfully opening the man’s trousers. “A little bit of everything. Except for overtly electronic music or rap. While some of the lyrics would be attractive to a wordsmith or lover of words, it is oftentimes just elevated noise and hurts my ears in the process.”

“Wow, these are vintage vinyl records,” breathed James, his eyes on Lucifer’s treasured collection. All attempts at undressing Lucifer in return were forgotten.

“Absolutely, though I’m not so fastidious as to say that only vinyl is the perfect way to listen to music,” said Lucifer, simultaneously making sure that his almost-lover’s trousers were firmly back in place. “Come.”

They spent the rest of the night going through Lucifer’s country music collection, including some songs James had never heard of because they had never been released to the public.

When it was time for James to leave because of a meeting at work the next day, he turned to Lucifer saying “I totally left you hanging, didn’t I?”

“I assure you,” smiled Lucifer, “that ‘hanging’ wasn’t the problem.”

“Shit, I-“

Lucifer laughed, “Forget it. You are welcome for a second try if you wish.”

“Thanks.”

**3\. The View**

Angela was a talker. It was quite lovely. Lucifer had his fair share of lovers with every imaginable level of sexuality and gender identity, although he had to admit that when his lovers were from the Ace spectrum, he was usually out of his depth and let them guide him where they wanted to go. It never ended in sex with members of the Ace spectrum, yet they still ended up having fun.

Anyhow, being with so many people, Lucifer had met a lot of different personalities and personality quirks. There were those who barely talked and wished to go right down to business, the quiet ones and the loud ones, the ones meek in a conversation and dominant in the bedroom or those that talked with every confidence in the world and then ending up extraordinarily shy. Lucifer had become very good at reacting to these situations. Sometimes, laughter was the best option; it may kill the mood to a point, but it lifted the spirits of the people involved. Lucifer had had absolutely disastrous nights that still ended up beautiful and unforgettable.

Angela liked to talk through her nervousness, both while she chatted him up with the clear intent to have sex, she talked as they started to kiss in the elevator and when she entered the penthouse. He knew she would continue to talk in bed as well and he was looking forward to it. He liked the sound of people, just like he enjoyed the quiet ones.

He liked people, Lucifer knew by now. He just did.

When Angela suddenly stopped talking, Lucifer knew that something was wrong.

“Angela, are you okay?”

“Wow!” said she, her eyes wide and focused on an area behind him. For a moment, Lucifer thought that some patron or member of his staff had found their way to his bedroom for some fun, but then remembered that this happened more rarely with his more human staff especially here at Astra, and Maze – who was one of the few to do so – was not actually living here.

He turned, but saw nothing special; there was the balcony, a blue sky and the sun eluminating the city.

“The view’s amazing! May I-?”

“Of course,” said Lucifer, feeling his reaction to the sexy times instantly growing flacid in view of her disinterest in a continuation of carnal activities. He offered his hand and they went on the balcony.

“I’ve lived in this city my entire life, but this is the best view I’ve ever seen,” she muttered and continued to show Lucifer where she grew up, where she went to school (she could not see it, but she pointed in the appropriate reaction) and where she worked.

When Angelia left, she was happy, and that was all Lucifer cared about.

**4\. The Lamp**

He loved Jana’s enthusiasm. She was such a passionate, strong, gorgeous young woman who knew what she wanted and was more than curious about various kinks. Ever since that wonderful night with their lovers from France almost a year prior, they had started to build a friendship that he now valued as much as their nights together. She called him occasionally and he called her in return. There were also copious amounts of sexting. She had also visited Candy in Las Vegas and they were a frightening pair together. He adored it. He adored them.

There had also been visits that did not end up in sex, but considering their high libido, that happened rarely. Today, their physical fun was starting at the bar in his penthouse, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake on Lucifer’s part. You see, right above the bar, there was a lamp and that lamp had been a gift. That gift was alive.

A tree, to be exact.

It had not really given any indication to being alive, but with Lucifer’s powers growing, it started to ‘branch out’ so to speak, seeking the closest source of Light.

“It tickles,” said Jana, jumping back, giggling before she startled and inspected the many tiny branches that were reaching out to them. ”What is this?”

Lucifer sighed and shooed the branches back into place.

“Just ignore them.”

He wished to resume their current activities, but she refused, “Seriously, Lucifer, what is this?”

“Yggdrasil,” sighed Lucifer sitting back in his chair realizing that there would be no sex tonight.

“I know,” was her indulgent reply. “I loved Norse mythology as a kid and I remember what the World Tree looks like. I always thought it was cool you had it reconstructed in the form of a lamp-you mean _that_ ’s the World Tree?” She interrupted herself suddenly when realization dawned. “The real World Tree. It’s tiny!” She still looked at the damned thing like it was a revelation and more fascinating than the very real and still a bit horny devil in front of her.

“It’s a seedling and was formed as humans perceive the World Tree because this is Loki’s way of thanking me: giving me a painful challenge,” said Lucifer.

“Loki?” breathed Jana. “Loki’s real?” After just a moment, she said, “Is he an angel?”

Lucifer laughed out loud at that, “No, he’s not.” That would be the day. He shuddered at the thought.

“Well, he’s a god and you’re-okay, explain, I’m listening.”

He did. He told about the Celestial Family and the Ancient Gods and broadly described how they came into being, just as he had explained to the BAU.

“All ancient gods are real, then?” asked Jana, absentmindedly caressing the World Tree so kindly that Lucifer could practically see the micro-seedling adopt her as one of _its_ humans. When he pointed that out later, Jana – outstanding woman that she was – just shrugged her shoulders saying _‘I’m sleeping with the devil. I don’t mind being adopted by the World Tree.’_

“Not all, but many, definitely the Norse Gods.”

Jana looked both horrified and fascinated with the prospect, which she voiced out loud. This statement was then followed by “Loki’s scary, isn’t he? But he’s also been punished exceedingly, sometimes for really stupid stuff. And… Don’t tell me the story of Loki and Svaðilfari is real.” Only horror was now visible on her face.

Lucifer could not lie to her, but this was not his story to tell. Unfortunately, by looking away, he gave his answer. Jana covered her mouth in dismay.

“What did he challenge you with?” she asked after moment, too perturbed to continue her quiz on mythology.

“After releasing her from their prison, Loki gifted me with it, challenging me to ‘set the tree alight.’ It irked him that the Lightbringer was burned out and decided to ‘help me.’ That’s what happens when you help Loki: he always finds a way to pay you back, and that carries its own price.”

“Well,” said Jana looking at _Lamp Yggdrasil_ , “you managed.”

“Yes, and wasn’t that a fun one trying encourage humans to do,” scoffed Lucifer.

“You helped with the invention of the light bulb because of a challenge from Loki,” said Jana, wide-eyed.

“He gave me 500 years and I was running out of time,” answered Lucifer.

“Could you set it alight now?” she asked. She pointed at him. After the scare with Ryan, he had told Jana that he was being a bit hungry, just to prepare her in a way he had failed to warn Ryan. Therefore, she also knew why he had been needy lately and was obviously curious to see its effects.

“Yes,” smiled Lucifer, “but I know better than using my Lightbringer powers on something Loki made.”

“Could it hurt you?” asked Jana, frowning.

“No,” was the honest answer. “But what could hurt me and what could hurt Earth are two different things.”

The rest of the night was spent talking about Yggdrasil, of which a micro-seedling settled beside Jana while letting itself be petted like a cat.

**5\. The Library Again**

Olivia was back.

She had gone up straight to the piano and said, “My friends think I’m an idiot and told me to get laid.”

“Does this mean _you_ want to sleep with me or that _your friends_ want me to sleep with you?” asked Lucifer, honestly confused. “If it is the latter, your friends are welcome together or alone if they wish, but I don’t sleep with people who are not sure about what they want or who are not sure whether it is me they want.”

“I want you,” said she. They resumed their activities from six and a half weeks ago in the elevator, but this time, they did not even make it to the couch. She had not lied, she did want him, but this was not why she propositioned again.

Gently, he interrupted the kiss.

“You don’t have to sleep with me to get access to my library. All you have to do is tell me what you desire.”

“I want to spend the next ten years deciphering these manuscripts and analyzing their artwork,” said she in near-trance.

And that was what she would do. Humans were strange sometimes. They had free will, but occasionally, they went about very convoluted ways in order to get what they wanted. All they had to do was tell him.

**+1. The View again**

His latest lover’s name was Simone Carter. They were on his bed, in an advanced stage of undress when she gasped, “God, your view is gorgeous.”

“I can assure you that he has nothing to do with that,” muttered Lucifer, annoyed. Her focus was elsewhere and he was just about to offer his hand for them to enjoy the view expecting a similar outcome as with Angela four months ago.

Before he could though, she grabbed his hand looking at him with an expression full of lust and excitement. “I want to have sex with you on that balcony.”

Lucifer grinned devilishly, “It would be an honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The Yggdrasil lamp is an actual prop that features in Lux, or at least appeared in a backstage video. I just ran with it.
> 
> WARNING FOR SEASON 4 (Lucifer) SPOILERS IN THE A/N SECTION:
> 
> \- Spoilor-free: The Voynich manuscript story is not based on any real evidence. The Voynich manuscript exists, it’s a unsolved literary history, but my solution is not based on any scientific evidence. But the journey of “Giulio” was similar to Niccolò de Conti.
> 
> \- SPOILER for Lucifer, the show:  
> On Leonardo da Vinci; my personal headcanon for this AU – and it’s my AU, so does that make it canon? Anyhow… - is that Leonardo was in love with Lucifer and vice versa. They never explored this part of their feelings during a (human)life-long friendship between the two because Leonardo had been too young when they first met and Lucifer is not into ‘larval’ humans. Lucifer admired the man’s intellect and at first, Leonardo was awed by this older ‘man’ who could actually understand and keep up with him, and later just loved him for being Lucifer once he grew out of the 'blind admiration' phase. Leonardo found out about Lucifer’s identity at some point in his life, and he did not care (after 'a bit of' a shock and about two years without correspondence because the reveal occurred when Amenadiel took Lucifer forcibly back to Hell). On his deathbed, Leonardo wondered if having loved the devil would damn him and, knowing from Lucifer’s tales just how much it would break Lucifer to have him in Hell, he asked to receive the Holy Sacrament. Lucifer arrived just a bit later, calmed him about his fears and was there in his last moments, to say goodbye. Leonardo never confessed his love because he did not want to hurt Lucifer further being so close to death and Lucifer didn’t because he didn’t allow himself to admit his feelings for the man, because Leonardo had been too young at first and never ceased to be in his mind. It would take a long time (specifically a certain vacation on Earth) when he finally admitted to these feelings.
> 
> On the Spoiler warning: Why did I write this? Because the show pissed me off in Season 4. It is utterly contradictory, stupid and cruel to claim that Chloe is Lucifer’s first love. Lucifer is an immortal with deep affection for humans. The likelihood of him living for thousands of years without loving anyone is contradictory to his character. Also, it’s pretty shitty with the whole Eve storyline in the show. 
> 
> References:  
> \- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voynich_manuscript  
> \- http://www.columbia.edu/cu/arthistory/undergraduate/index.html  
> \- https://www.theadverum.com/home/2018/5/23/unsolved-mysteries-in-literary-history  
> \- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niccolò_de%27_Conti  
> \- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women_in_Indonesia  
> \- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leonardo_da_Vinci  
> \- https://www.sparknotes.com/biography/davinci/section3/  
> \- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacopo_Saltarelli


	3. 5+1 Ryan and Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Times Lucifer undid Ryan and the one time he returned the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the summary, this is nothing explicit in this chapter. And undoing doesn’t necessarily mean sexual gratification.
> 
> Sorry for not continuing “The True Believer”, my brain isn’t cooperating because of my exam, so I decided to write something for fun until Monday releases me from that particular source of stress.

**1: The First Meeting**

_De Opppresso Liber_

To liberate the oppressed.

The irony of it all was sometimes too much for Ryan to bear. He was proud of his work, he loved his job with the same iron loyalty as a Marine, but sometimes, in his darkest moments, he could not help but laugh at the motto that he whole-heartedly believed in.

Mostly because he spent his time helping people who may need their support but who lived thousands of miles away, while he was powerless to help marginalized groups in his own country.

Including himself.

Why had he come here?

That Larissa gall had seemed nice enough, but this double-life was starting to really mess with him. Back when the president repealed DADT, he had thought it would be easier, that this newfound freedom would _liberate_ him the day that unspeakable policy expired. However, here he was, six months later feeling absolutely miserable and instead of celebrating, he was sitting at a well-stocked bar drinking last night’s experience into oblivion. He felt dirty and as much as he wanted to blame his father for the feeling, he knew that last night’s forbidden, hurried, rough and almost painful tumble would have made him feel cheap regardless.

Tumble.

For that, they would have needed to spend at least some time in a bed, but it had been a dark, not dirty but definitely not appetizing, bathroom stall. Tumbling would have been dangerous in that context.

Never again. He could not do this anymore.

Ironic, now that he had the freedom to do so, he had just had enough of it. Presidents came and went, and Ryan knew there was enough opposition among generals and politicians to get him into real trouble if he made his sexuality official. The Army was his life; everything else was just seasoning. He could do without spices.

The club’s security personal was not particularly obvious to the untrained eye, but Ryan knew that subtly roaming look to the bone. The man was of Arabic descent and if he had to place a bet, he would claim that the man’s roots were from the Arabic Peninsula. It was quickly confirmed when the man started talking to a patron from Iran, the security guard’s _Khalījī_ dialect resonating beautifully as they greeted each other and the visitor inquired after the man’s health. Ryan’s heart ached with sympathy and wondered whatever the hell happened for a man of such high education to end up as a security guard in a nightclub. The man he was talking to grasped his hand gently in a familial gesture before they quickly parted ways, and if that had not been a forbidden meeting, Ryan did not know what was. The security guard lowered his head only to notice that Ryan’s eyes were on him.

“ _As-salaam alaykum_ ,“ said Ryan immediately, hand on his chest, and the familiarity of it all calmed his agitated heart.

_“Wa alaykum is-salaam,“_ was the reply while the security guard offered his hand, which Ryan took as they exchanged names, and Ryan felt a bang of guilt for calling himself ‘Timothy Bennet,’ especially given Murad’s sincere and formal greeting.

_“Making friends, Murad?”_ asked a silky voice in _Khalījī_ , which – unlike Murad’s unmistakable local accent that betrayed his educated status – could have been placed anywhere in the Gulf region, yet sounded so native that he was suprised to look into the dark-brown eyes of a Caucasian male in his mid-thirties.

He could not have been more Ryan’s type if he tried.

Tall, dark, handsome and intelligent.

And hot as hell.

“Hello, sexy soldier,” grinned sex-on-legs. “I am Lucifer and the owner of this establishment. How may I serve you?”

He had to bite his lips to keep himself from blurting out that he could serve him any way he wanted and instead he asked, “How did you know?”

“Usually, white Americans speaking passable Gulf Arabic are either businessmen who regularly deal on the Arabic Peninsula, or they’re veterans, and you are not a businessman.”

Okay, he definitely had to practice the ‘being a civilian’ thing. Even his men said that he sucked at it.

Murad looked from Lucifer to Ryan, grinned and wished them a pleasant night before returning to his duties.

“Now, will we?” asked Lucifer, and Ryan could just feel his mother flinching at the name, several hundred miles away.

“What?”

“Have a pleasant night?”

Ryan swallowed dryly.

_Yes, please._

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” was all he could say hoarsely.

Lucifer tilted his head looking confused, “You clearly want me, I’m thrilled to have you. What is the problem?”

“Bed,” croaked Ryan, his resistance dwindling as if he was some weak-minded, horny idiot.

He probably was. Still, he wanted to have sex in a bed for once in his life.

“King size, of course,” said Lucifer looking quite hopeful, but not at all pushy, and Ryan felt that, if he said ‘no’, the man would accept it without question. He pointed to the ceiling. “It’s upstairs.”

Ryan’s resistance all but shattered.

Kissing Lucifer quickly became his favorite activity. It felt like everything Ryan had ever dreamed of. He had kissed others before, but never like this, never slowly and languidly as if they had all the time in the world. They started in the elevator and Ryan would not have minded if the elevator took them all the way to Heaven.

It felt like it anyway.

The man’s strength beneath skilful fingers was intoxicating and he completely lost himself in the sensation.

* * *

He was _fit._

After a few rounds and Ryan being almost too exhausted to move, they got dressed and Ryan was unsure how to proceed. This was the first time he had even had sex in someone’s bed.

“Come here,” said Lucifer, already settling down.

They were both cuddlers, it turned out.

And insatible.

At some point in the night, they reached for each other again.

So that was that, then. There was no denying about who he was. He would ask Lucifer if he knew of other places like this because he would not go back to meaningless, rushed encounters.

* * *

**2: Once Upon a Time in Woodland**

Five years.

It was not that they had not stayed in contact with each other during that time. On the contrary; since Lucifer acquired a smartphone a few months ago, the man texted him quite regularly. However, they had not actually seen each other in five years.

And that was Ryan’s fault. Lucifer had always been very clear about where he was, while Ryan either was not allowed to disclose the location where he was at, or retrospectively let Lucifer know where he had stayed when he was off-duty. Ryan had barely spent any time in the States these past five years, but instead spent his time traveling. He quite enjoyed sending Lucifer some random picture without specific landmarks, waiting a few minutes, only to get the correct location in the form of a query.

_Picture of some random high-altitude photo making sure there was no distinct mountain in the picture._

_‘Ah, spending some time in Austria, are you? Beautiful.’_

_An open plane that did not possess any revealing landmarks._

_‘How long will you be staying in Tanzania?’_

_Another open plane._

_‘I hope you enjoy your time in Scotland.’_

At some point, he even switched phones to make sure the man was not tracking him, only to feel so bad about his lack of trust that he confessed the truth to the club owner.

His response:

_> :) I’m the devil, darling. I’ve walked this Earth long before humans set foot on it. And let me tell you, these continental shifts are galling. _

In turn, Lucifer let him know that he moved from LA to DC because he had become a civilian consultant of the FBI, the Behavioral Analysis Unit to be exact. He had sounded quite content.

And then, out of the blue, almost as if feeling that Ryan had set foot on American soil for the first time in years, his phone dinged the second he stepped out of the plane.

_‘Detective Joseph Anderson from Woodland ring a bell?’_

Ryan’s eyebrows rose considerably at that. He put his phone to his ear and actually called for once, “What’s up?”

_“I’ve just met this terribly handsome and depressingly maudlin detective in Woodland, Washington State. His name’s Joseph Anderson and he’s missing his financé so much, he refuses to flirt with me. It irks me.”_

He had missed the man’s voice. Why had he not talked to him again?

Oh right, because he had a weak spot a mile wide when it came to the unapproachable, devilishly handsome club owner.

“Well, lucky you, we’ve just landed and even luckier you, the person you’re talking about is a member of my team.”

The sheer coincidence was a like a sign for Ryan to get his head out of his ass and to simply visit Lucifer again.

_“Luck of the devil,”_ was the reply and Ryan just knew he grinned from ear to ear.

He hesitated only momentarily, but he found that it was useless. He had already made his decision.

“Want me to bring him?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone before Lucifer said, _“I’d be delighted.”_

* * *

He had missed him, Ryan found.

Apart from that, he had to give points to Lucifer for subtlety. He had known the man could be discreet, but watching him smoothly step into the car without any comment was about as breathtaking as when Lucifer started to undress him in his hotel room not too long after.

Ryan had met such beautiful, wonderful people these past five years, but he found that nobody even came close to the club owner’s talent, strength and gentility. He undid him as effecitvely as he had the first time around.

And they were still hopeless cuddlers.

* * *

**3: Jogging**

_“…And Maze just grabbed him by the neck and said ‘One more word from you, human, and I will gut you slowly with nothing but my fingernails’,” babbled Lucifer, lightly jogging next to a completely exhausted Ryan._

_The thing about being in a friends-with-benefits relationship with the devil was that sometimes, all you could do was accept how puny you were in comparison._

_Besides, this was not too bad. It was excellent training. His men, though half of them were still active duty, could barely keep up with him these days. Despite his age, he was as fit as ever._

_Apart from that, well…_

* * *

"Damn, man! You're retired," gasped Morgan once they came to a stop. Ryan still felt fresh enough. "How the hell do you stay this fit?"

"Lucifer."

"TMI, TMI!” was the horrified exclamation. “I work with you two; what you do in the bedroom is none of my business."

Ryan laughed, “Not what I meant. He's fit. As in workout-fit."

“Don't tell me you went jogging with the babbling archangel," moaned Morgan. “It's disheartening."  
“I find it cute.”

* * *

_He loved taking showers with him after these harrowing workouts. Lucifer managed to hit all the right spots when he was slowly massaging his sore muscles, and Ryan sighed in contentment, his face buried in the sheets._

_As effortlessly as Lucifer undid him in the bedroom, post-workout cuddles did the job no less effectively._

* * *

“And he's extra gentle afterwards."

„T...M...I."

* * *

**4: Music**

They were in the penthouse. Ryan was tired after spending a day doing nothing but paperwork in order to achieve his dream of helping young people down on their luck.

He was lounging about on the couch trying to summon the energy to continue reading the unpublished manuscript of a novel by Oscar Wilde, but he was currently failing miserably.

Lucifer was sitting next to him, e-book reader in hand. From the look on his face, this was not some cheap erotica novel – at least, his typical ‘horny schoolboy’ expression was missing – and instead, he seemed to be reading something quite serious. His fingers flicked through the book at record speed.

There was nothing more fascinating than watching Lucifer and Spencer sit next to each other speed-reading through a text so complex, it would take Ryan ages to get through, and he was by no means slow. He used to be a Special Ops operator; absorbing information rapidly was a requirement for the job.

“What are you reading?” asked Ryan quietly.

“Hm?” Lucifer looked up. “Oh, just a novel. From the perspective of a young girl who, with her brother, is sent to visit their grandmother because her mother is having another child. Late 19th century.”

“What happens?”

“A rockslide takes the entire village.” Ryan swallowed. “True story,” continued Lucifer, his expression still serious. “The reader knows what will happen, but the tragedy happens on the last two pages of the novel. Sometimes, children simply have to grow up very fast, as that little girl would have to at the end.”

“Lucifer…” At loss for words, Ryan said, “Play something for me.”

The sad angel looked at him, and nodded slowly,” Anything in particular?”

“Whatever you desire.”

Lucifer chuckled, and sat down by the piano and the first strokes already told Ryan that this would be a heavy one.

_“Would you know my name  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same  
If I saw you in heaven?  
I must be strong and carry on  
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven_

_Would you hold my hand  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would you help me stand  
If I saw you in heaven?  
I'll find my way through night and day  
'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven_

_Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees  
Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please_

_Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure  
And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven_

_Would you know my name  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same  
If I saw you in heaven?  
I must be strong and carry on  
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven_

Tears streaming down his face, Ryan stumbled over and just hugged the heartbroken angel.

How could a creature this old be heartbroken over a book?

“I swear I will,” whispered Ryan, his chin on Lucifer’s shoulder, “I swear I’ll remember.”

Lucifer kissed his forehead affectionately.

“That, my friend, you cannot promise.”

If he ever came face to face with Lucifer’s family, he would throttle them.

* * *

**5: The Grand Opening**

Finally.

Several years in the making, after a ton of administrative and other hurdles – hurdles he refused to think about today – his youth center could finally open. Frank and Derek had not stopped grinning. They had spent no small amount of their precious freetime helping him realize this dream. His men were here, the BAU was present, Lucifer was here; even three of Ryan’s sisters had arrived to take part in this.

It was a damn good day.

The DC Highlands Shelter for Disadvantaged Teens

Or: The Devil’s Center for Human Spawn and Doomed Terrors.

It depended on whom you asked.

However, despite Lucifer’s caution around children, he was present all the way through, and if he made sure that there would always be at least one member of the BAU between him and the excited teenagers, Ryan would not breathe a word about that.

Ryan’s face was hurting from all the grinning and smiling he had done today.

Finally, _finally_ he had been able to achieve the goal he had set so many years ago: he had created a place for young people to go to when they were lost. He was looking forward to providing something to these children that he himself had desperately longed for.

He could have done none of that without the support of Frank, Derek, his men, the other member of the BAU and of course, Lucifer. While Lucifer had never actively participated in his planning, he had always been supportive and he had cut through the red tape in ways not even members of the BAU could, except for Emily perhaps, but she hated politics with a passion, while Lucifer had no qualms about using them to his advantage. By the time his last visitors left, it was dark outside.

“I have something for you.”

Ryan’s heart had to be pounding on the sidewalk by now, but no, here it was, still hammering against his ribcage.

“I thought you’d left,” croaked Ryan, once he stopped turning the air blue.

“I would have said goodbye,” frowned Lucifer.

True enough.

“I know. Thanks for that. The ten-year supply of condoms and the brochures about safer sex will come in handy,” said Ryan. “I won’t hang up the ‘Drugs Not Hugs’ sign, though. It’s in pretty poor taste. Some of these kids will come from less than ideal households, so they might not understand the joke.”

“That’s not all,” said Lucifer. “I wanted to give this to you in private.”

He sounded cautious and not at all the way he sounded when he offered congratulatory sex or a friendly outing, “Tell me.” He could barely see the devil in the dark. His outfit blended his silhouette with his surroundings.

There was a hand gesture and an otherwordly shimmer appeared out of nowhere.

It appeared to be alive and was capable of flying.

_Scales._

The creature wrapped itself around Lucifer’s neck like a fur collar, only that it was made of shimmering scales. The devil held out his hand and they entered the building together. This was when he truly saw the being for the first time.

“Is this a dragon?” breathed Ryan, unsure whether he could reach out or not.

It was not larger than a cat, but otherwise it looked a lot like a dragon with four short legs and a long body with dark-grey and brown scales. Its face was very gentle and curious… and it had far too many teeth.

“Yes and no,” said Lucifer, “She’s… an echo of what once was, but she’s nothing more than an enchanted figurine.”

He did not even know where to start with the barrage of questions that assaulted him in this moment, “So, she was once alive?”

“I’m not a necromancer if that is where you’re going,” was Lucifer’s amused reply. “I cannot shape reality that way. Her name’s is Étain, and she’s not technically alive, but I overdid it with the Light when I made her, so if I were you, I’d treat her like she’s alive rather than some figurine. She’ll be going to sleep shortly, though, and wake only if there’s danger. Dragons like her existed and she’s the echo of a den mother, but she never actually lived during the Third Reign.”

“She’s tiny.”

“Not all dragons were giants,” smiled Lucifer patting the breathing dragon figurine’s head – and that was yet another thought Ryan would not have dreamed of having without his friendship with Lucifer.

There was a moment’s hesitation before Lucifer spoke again, quietly this time, “This is a nest of sorts, isn’t it? A den. Every nest needs a guardian. I figured that one of mine,” his voices halted and he swallowed dryly, “one of mine should protect yours.”

Ryan wrapped his arms around that amazing creature he cared for so dearly, his heart too full to speak. In awe, he watched the dragon fly on top of the center turning into stone almost instantly. Lucifer laughed when Ryan said that this reminded him of the Gargoyles.

_“She’ll take offense to that, so be careful what you say around her.”_

As if to make a point, she growled before freezing again and Ryan never said anything on the matter ever again.

* * *

**+1: Not Letting You Fall**

Derek had texted him saying that the case they had just had hit just a little bit too close to home for Lucifer.

An unforgiving father.

Child abandonment.

Cruelty.

Punishment by fire.

Lifelong scars.

As soon as he heard, Ryan drove over. The thing was that the team was always there for Lucifer, but once they all went home, Lucifer would still spend the night on the balcony staring up to the sky. This was where he came in. It was by no means the first time, but with everything changing and Lucifer starting to heal, past pains had to be especially galling.

He was not on the balcony and the penthouse seemed empty, but Ryan knew he was there.

“I’m afraid I won’t be particularly good company tonight,” sounded Lucifer’s voice from the dark room, the lights of the city not bright enough to lighten up the penthouse, even though Ryan knew they usually did. Lucifer’s thoughts had to be exceedingly dark, his voice a hoarse rasp.

“If I wished to be a fair-weather friend, I wouldn’t be here,” countered Ryan calmly. He could not see a thing, but he was not surprised when two arms wrapped around him from behind.

“Forgive me,” muttered Lucifer quietly. “I just…”

How many times would he have to tell him that he had just as much right to touch him as freely as Ryan was allowed to touch him spontaneously in return? He had lost count.

“Lucifer, you know I don’t mind,” said Ryan, lowering his voice as well.

A hoarse chuckle was the answer, “I’m quite sure you didn’t consent to this.”

“ _This_ being my friend hugging me?”

“This being your friend’s ruined body wrapping around you like a leech.”

_Oh._

He had seen Lucifer’s body before. Of course, he had. Lucifer controlled his body and emotions around people unaware of his identity, but everybody who knew him well also knew that Lucifer had a temper. He had seen flashes of red in Lucifer’s eyes. Ryan had seen what God had done to his friend and lover’s body and he _hated_ him for it. However, Lucifer was very careful not to touch him when he looked like that. He thought that the look of his face was _punishment_. That could not be good for your self-image.

Ryan reached down and enclosed the devil’s hands; Lucifer shuddered. His hands were as smooth as silk; they always were, but now it felt like any roughness was gone. Ryan leaned against him, closed his eyes and sighed. He did not care what Lucifer looked like.

“Let me show you,” whispered Ryan.

“Show me what?”

“That you’re beautiful, scarred or not.”

“No light,” was all Lucifer said in response, but his body reacted to Ryan’s offer.

“Whatever you desire.”

It made Lucifer chuckle. Ryan guided them slowly to the bed.

They made it about four steps, when Ryan was hopelessly lost. After Lucifer’s command, the last bit of light had left the room and Ryan was unsure where the bed was located. He was usually quite good at maintaining orientation in a pitchblack room, but this went a few steps beyond what even he could navigate.

“Where are we?”

Another rumbling laugh and Lucifer guided him gently to the bed without bumping into anything.

He loved kissing Lucifer, but the devil’s usual enthusiasm was lacking.

“Is everything okay?”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” was the solemn reply. “You don’t see-“

“Turn on the light then. I won’t recoil.”

A bitter chuckle was the reply, “Don’t make promises that you might not be able to keep.”

“Let me prove it to you.”

Light flooded the room so suddenly that Ryan had to blink in order to adjust his eyes from looking into complete darkness to a room as bright as daylight.

He was _beautiful._

Hurt, yes, scarred beyond belief, but his red eyes reminded him of starlight, a Red Giant perhaps, and Ryan felt so very small. He gingerly grasped Lucifer’s red cheeks, looking for any sign of pain and kissed him. This time, Lucifer responded, but still, he interrupted the kiss before Ryan was ready.

"This isn't a fairy tale. My body will not magically become appealing because you kiss its wounds," snapped the devil angrily.

“I know who you are,” countered Ryan, his hand on the devil’s beautiful cheeks. “I see you. You’re plenty appealing to me.”

Lucifer’s body numbly sunk down on the bed behind him and looked up at him, utterly lost, “I don’t understand.”

“Let me show you.”

And he did. He spent the next uncountable number of minutes worshipping Lucifer’s body, making sure he made Lucifer feel as good as the devil made him feel without fail since that first night together. Sometimes, Lucifer was shaking so badly that Ryan had to stop to make sure he was fine, but whenever he did, the devil begged him to continue. Ryan had to admit that having this much power over Lucifer was intoxicating, but he really only wanted to make him feel desired and cherished. Given Lucifer’s breathless expression of adoration, he managed.

* * *

The next day, he woke up next to the devil, still in his humanoid angelic form – though usually, Lucifer just referred to it as his ‘current angelic form’ or shortened it to ‘angelic form’ – but now, there was a dangerous, playful grin on his lips and a gleam in his eyes that promised a very good time.

“If you would allow me, I believe it is my turn.”

Definitely his favorite person in the world if not the whole universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline is a bit shaky here. The first five stories are chronological, the +1 is undefined but definitely somewhere between 4 and 5.
> 
> On a not so serious note:I am not a romance writer, but let me tell you that writing same-sex relationship is even tougher for me for one reason only: pronoun use :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this...


	4. Move In, Come Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Ryan Turner officially moves to a more permanent apartment in DC. He gets help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating the other story. I was very busy and decided that I needed to publish this before I continue the other story.
> 
> This chapter is set sometime after The True Believer.

Packing up their things for their yes-we-will-actually-have-a-weekend-so-let’s-get-out-before-Hotch-or-JJ-show-up weekend, Emily looked at Derek.

“You coming as well tomorrow?”

“Of course,” said he. “I’m bringing the truck. He promised food, so I’m all in. What about you, Rossi?”

“Will there be alcohol?” asked the experienced profiler. At Emily’s answering grin, he said, “Count me in, then.”

“You’ll definitively be there, right, Lucifer?” asked Emily.

“Alcohol and food? Of course,” grinned Lucifer. “We must enjoy our not-damnable vices. Where to?”

Puzzled, Emily looked at him, “Tomorrow morning. 8 AM at Ryan’s new place? We’re helping him move. He mentioned it two weeks ago at Astra. You were there.”

“Ah yes,” said Lucifer, a bit distracted. “Of course. I offered him to send some members of my staff over, but he said he preferred moving with friends, so I’m guessing that some of his buddies from the military will be there.”

He was met with stunned silence.

“Damn it, Ryan,” muttered Derek, “you’ve got to be clearer.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Lucifer, now frowning.

“’Friends’ includes you but not members of your staff. He was grinning at you, didn’t he, when he said that? That was his way of saying you’re invited.”

“He did?” Lucifer seemed genuinely confused. “Then why didn’t he say so?”

“Probably because hasn’t worked with Dr. Spencer Reid for the past five years and hasn’t learned to speak ‘socially clueless but adorable’ yet,” snarked Derek, which elicited a ‘hey!’ from the devil as well as the human in question.

“I assure you, Agent Morgan, that I’m very aware of social interactions and not at all adorable,” Lucifer defended himself, his face titled slightly upward, sounding miffed.

Derek smiled, “In some aspects, but not in all. Not when it comes to fa-riendship,” he corrected himself at the last minute, unwilling to open that celestial-sized can of worms on his first Friday off in a month.

* * *

Sergeant Major Steven Trevor had spent his entire adult life in the military, and had no wish to change that. However, when the captain retired, he seriously thought about following him. Even among the green berets, there were only so many people Steven trusted as completely. The Charlie Company of the 3rd Battalion really were the quiet professionals the green berets were hailed as; unless something went terribly wrong, nobody was interested in the stories of a team specialized in humanitarian efforts – and even if somebody was, other companies from their own and other battalions would always be approached first. Steven did not mind and he knew that nobody in their team cared. This was their calling and their duty and he was proud of his job.

As an NCO and specialist, serving in this company was as good of a place as any – hell, with the right officer, this was a dream – but the green berets were not exactly known to be good at pushing their officers up the ladder. Instead, their superiors were very interested in keeping their talented team leaders on junior officer level for as long as justifiably possible, to make sure their talents were available on site rather than behind a desk.

Steven knew the captain did not mind that, but still, he hoped that now that he was out and still serving as a military liaison for the FBI, he would get the promotion he should have received years ago.

Captain Turner was one of the best men he knew, as a person, commanding officer and a green beret. He was the kind of guy for whom you would willingly walk through Hell and laugh in the devil’s face. He was the person who would drop everything in order to help you out if you needed it, no matter where you were. That kind of readiness, of course, inspired reciprocation. When he messaged them that he would move to DC, it took all but a day for eight out of twelve members of the company to shift plans in order to help him out. The remaining four were either from the West Coast, or in the case of Jim Foster, had just become a father, and thus would not come, at Turner’s insistence. Being from the West Coast certainly had not prevented Jones from booking a flight from that small town near Portland to DC. Ultimately, he had still been unable to come because Jones’ fiancé’s father had needed their help. Eight would do just fine, though.

Steven was the last to arrive yet still on time.

“Thanks for coming,” said Turner, giving him a one-armed hug before explaining to them that his friends from the FBI and Frank Lawrence as well as his daughter would arrive any minute now.

And they did. First Lawrence arrived – a sensible, intelligent, hilarious individual and Steven liked him from the get-go – followed by Agents Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, Dr. Reid and Ms. Garcia, while excusing the two parents of the team, unit leader Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau. And just when he wanted to congratulate the captain for his excellent judgment, the last member of the team arrived.

The thing was, they all knew the captain was gay and they did not care.

Captain Turner never talked about it, even after DADT expired, and that in itself was strange. They were used to living on top of each other, and even if conversations were kept at a minimum (which they were not because they were a chatty bunch), sexuality, political stance and religion of each member became quite obvious after a few years on tour together.

They knew almost everything about the captain with the exception of the man’s love life, and that in itself did not compute because Turner was a romantic at heart, and it showed. Of course, they had spent a considerable amount of time in places where being gay was not acceptable if not outright life-threatening, especially as a member of the US military, so that all made sense, but Steven had often wondered whether Turner truly believed they did not know.

The newcomer had arrived in a really nice engine – Chevrolet Corvette if his eyes did not deceive him – and the first thing Steven thought was ‘rich trust fund kid’ and his second thought was ‘gay.’ He looked very delighted to meeting them all and instantly started flirting.

“Hello.”

_Subtlety thy name is not Ryan Turner._

Steven had never seen the captain smile at anyone like this in the ten years he had been working with the man, and Ryan was an extremely personable creature. In contrast, _Lucifer Morningstar_ – by God, that could not truly be his name! – regardless of how flamboyant and obvious he was about his own sexuality, did not give the slightest impression that he and Turner were anything but friends.

If this was his boyfriend, though… No amount of subtlety could make up for being a spoiled rich kid, though, a guy with no true understanding of hardship. Apparently, he was a consultant to the BAU, similar to Turner being the military liaison, but it looked like reality had not sunk in just yet. Really, Turner could do better.

Ultimately, Steven and Morningstar of all people were the first volunteering to grab the furniture from the truck while the rest helped out in the apartment to move the boxes Turner had already moved.

“Couch first, please,” said Turner before directing the rest toward the apartment.

On their way down – four floors, and the elevator was too small for large pieces of furniture – Steven decided to give a bit of a shovel talk.

“So, how’d you meet?”

“Oh, back in LA,” answered Morningstar. “Five years ago. We stayed in contact, but only truly reconnected during a case this summer.”

“Friends?” asked Steven.

“Yes, absolutely,” answered the tall, thin man. “And you are his weapon’s specialist, aren’t you? He’s talked about you and your impressive skillset.”

“Thanks,” said Steven, caught on the wrong foot, not having expected Mr-Trust-Fund to actually listen to military talk of his boytoy.

“Interesting,” smiled the other man genuinely, “a good friend of mine would love to talk to you about your field. She has this thing with knives.”

Steven did not bother to hide his surprised grin, “Woman of my dreams.”

The club owner laughed, “She’s anyone’s dream, though usually less pleasant and more of a nightmare.”

He stopped at that, “Ex?”

That amused the other man even more, “No, but she’s a demon, I’m the devil. Being a nightmare is our calling.”

He knew better than to say anything to that.

The captain deserved _so much better_ , not some crazy guy with a God complex.

They opened the truck and climbed in; Steven was surprised that the would-be devil’s movements were elegant and purposeful.

“You take that chair,” Morningstar gestured at a heavy-looking thing to his right, “I’ll take the couch. Oh, dear me, Ryan, I would have thought you had better taste.”

It really was an ugly, old thing of a couch, Steven had to admit, but he did not respond well to this gigolo criticizing the captain in his absence. Before he could say anything, including a protest because that couch was triple-chambered, looked heavy and would be unwieldy on that trip upstairs, this over-the-top, suit-wearing men…izer – really, what were man-loving womanizers called? Gay Casanova? – just stepped over and lifted it like it weighed less than nothing.

“Let’s go!” said he, stepping out of the truck with an elegance that had Steven wonder who the hell Turner was dating because he had certainly never seen a single man carry a heavy piece of furniture in one hand. “I want to get to the promised ‘snacks and booze’ part.”

Numbly, Steven grabbed the bulky chair, willing to leave it at the entrance in order to help this strange guy carry a far too heavy couch upstairs.

“Really, where did he get this thing? Flea market? Some street corner?” While speaking derogatively of the couch he very carefully lifted it around the first round of the staircase making sure not to damage. “And you, Sergeant Major Tervor, you’ve come all the way from Texas, to help here. How come? Surely you must know the easy way with which Ryan makes friends, and thus people that are more than willing to help him out.”

His British accent did not sound nearly as pompous as Steven expected. His voice was soft, almost gentle, and genuinely curious.

“Sure, but he’s the captain. There ain’t much he wouldn’t do for us in return. Besides, we’ve been a team for far longer than you know him.“

It was a warning and a statement woven into one, but Morningstar did not seem to notice.

“True enough. He’s exceedingly fond of all of you.”

And that, apparently meant that Morningstar in turn was fine with them.

“You sure you don’t need help?” asked Steven, both a bit in awe and slightly worried to see him effortlessly maneuver that objectively ugly couch around the next turn as if it weighed nothing while Steven desperately tried to keep his hand on the bulky monster that was the comfy chair. At one point, he even lost his grip, but by a miracle it got stuck somewhere and did not fall.

At some point, they finally reached Ryan’s new apartment where he heard the voices of the BAU members and the members of his company intermingling and laughing.

“There you go,” he heard Morningstar from the entrance, “the ugliest couch I’ve ever set my eyes on.”

Ryan just smiled, “Lucifer…”

“Truly, the colors clash with the rest of your décor. I can tell even though most of your things are still in boxes. This went out of style fifteen years ago-“

Steven used the man’s rant to look at the team. They all looked amused and quite startled to realize that he had carried that thing up all by himself while Steven was reduced to chair-carrying duty. The members of the BAU looked unsurprised – surely, they had already familiarized themselves with Morningstar’s surprising strength – and were simply amused.

While Morningstar gave a lecture on what pieces of furniture should never mix and that the horridness of the couch did not even warrant a second glance, exposing himself even more as a cliché gay man and belying the sheer power beneath his elegant stride (proving that ‘cliché’ really meant jack shit), Steven was impressed that, not once, did he out Turner. Anyone not knowing about Turner’s sexuality would think that the captain had simply befriended some guy who happened to be gay. Steven was sorry for his less than charitable thoughts in the beginning, and set himself up for an apology. He had not said anything, but this man was obviously important to the captain, and he wanted to start their relationship honestly.

“-where did you find that monstrosity anyway?”

“On a sale, while at college, where I arrived with nothing,” said Turner softly. “I’d just returned from my first tour where I was strongly encouraged to get an education, something that I honestly never thought about. My father refused to chip in, so I did it all by myself.”

Morningstar deflated almost instantly before saying honestly, “You are ten times the man he is.”

Turner’s smile was rueful, “Nah, I’m just as much of a coward. He hides his cruelty behind The Book, I’ve hidden myself behind duty and fear of prejudice.” With that, he stepped forward and held out his hand, which Morningstar took, surprised. “May I?”

Morningstar’s voice was rough and much lower than the feminine intonation that Steven had become familiar with, “You never have to ask for permission.”

“Neither do you, yet you insist on it regardless,” said Turner, tilting his head up just slightly to make up for the three inches that Morningstar had on him. Predictably, the team whooped and whistled; one would not think they were the ‘quiet professionals’ they were hailed as.

It was kind amazing to watch the best CO Steven had ever had the pleasure of working with - a man always in control, rarely out of sorts and awesome in the most literal sense of the word, a true hero he respected from the very core of his being –as he was being swept off his feet.

What was even better was him turning to them like he had just given away classified information, “Look, I-“

“Who won the betting pool?” drawled Jimmy Romano. “I know I lost. I thought he’d come out the day after the president repealed DADT.”

“I think Pedro, but is it winning if the captain is two years later than even he thought?” said Raúl Martinez.

Morningstar giggled. “I believe they were onto you, darling.”

“Alright everyone,” said the captain, putting authority into his voice, which successfully won out against the blush on his cheek, “let’s get to work or I’m keeping the booze to myself.”

* * *

Lucifer liked Ryan’s men. They were intelligent, fun and absolutely gorgeous; very fit and tantalizingly responsive to his flirting, not in a serious manner, of course, they were all very straight or very taken, but they enthusiastically and adeptly joined in on the banter and he finally understood why Ryan was so very loyal to these people.

After a day of setting up the apartment, a nice evening of booze and snacks with everyone, Lucifer was the last person to leave.

“I’m glad you came today,” said Ryan.

“I wouldn’t be here, without Agents Morgan and Prentiss telling me what you meant.”

Ruefully, he avoided Lucifer’s eyes, “I didn’t mean to play coy.”

“You didn’t,” grinned Lucifer, “I was simply being a bit slow.”

“No, I should’ve known better. You're honest and straightforward, and excellent at catching the smallest clues concerning someone's desires. As long as it doesn't outright concern you," he added.

"Are you desiring me, Captain Turner?" Lucifer grinned suggestively.

The retired Army captain ducked his head, "Always. But you being here, helping me, talking. I like that as much as our more..."

"Sinful? Lustful? Pleasurable actions of the flesh?"  
"...beneficial activities," completed Ryan now laughing outright.

After a moment of silence, Lucifer agreed quietly, "Me too."

The mood was now heavier than he was comfortable with, so he just had to say, “An acquisition of necessity or not. The couch clashes horribly with everything else. That green is just-” a playful but sincere shudder perfectly described his feelings on the horrendous thing. “Was the original buyer color-blind? That is the only explanation I’ll accept.”

Instead of pushing him out of the door with a laugh and wishing him a good night, a strong hand grabbed his and pulled him inside.

“Ten bucks says you’ll like it by tomorrow.”

Lucifer did not even bother to fake outrage and happily went back inside, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quiet professionals indeed... While I can read up almost everything on SEALs, the way they are set up, how many people in a team, etc. Researching the Green Berets was a patchwork of different sources and trying to piece it into a clear picture...

**Author's Note:**

> I am not an FBI agent and I don’t know what official reports look like. This is my reference for that:  
> \- http://www.historyofphonephreaking.org/writings/htraff/  
> \- For a list of FBI classification or offense number: https://newstrench.com/secret-no-more/secret-no-more-fbi-central-records-systems-classification/  
> \- List of field office/HQ abbreviations: http://www.historyofphonephreaking.org/writings/htraff/fbi-office-abbreviations.php


End file.
